Perfect Imperfection
by Luna Darkside
Summary: Sometimes they have to stop and wonder - why do they love each other, again? /ShinKai & KaiShin, introspective oneshot, complete/


_Soooooo I'm still frantically working on the Christmas fic, and because of that, I haven't had time to write anything. I'm about 85% sure I haven't posted this yet, and I found it in my "unfinished" folder, which means I have no idea_ when _I wrote this,__ but... maybe you'll enjoy it?_

_Warnings include ridiculous amounts of sap, shounen-ai, and grammar mistakes / errors. Yeah._

_Enjoy? - Luna_

**Perfection Imperfection**

Kaito, Shinichi mused, wasn't perfect. Far from it, actually.

He balanced his face on his hands and watched, with every outward appearance of serenity. Inside, his stomach was boiling and his heart was on fire and it was pretty much completely horrible.

Across the room, Kaito appeared to not notice that Shinichi was slowly imploding, choosing instead to continue his mission of chatting up every female in the establishment. This girl was target number three, and in the last ten minutes, Kaito had gotten more blushing out of her than he had ever managed to get from Shinichi.

Shinichi sort of wondered why Kaito still did this kind of thing when they were in a relationship. He supposed it might just be because Shinichi was about as responsive to flirting as a particularly unresponsive rock, and Kaito, so used to the fine art of proffering roses in exchange for phone numbers, just missed the thrill of seducing others.

Which, to be honest, was a _terrible_ reason, the detective thought, more than a little sourly, as Kaito leaned in a little too close and somehow managed to make the girl laugh. (Most likely with some stupid comment that Shinichi would've rolled his eyes at, had it been directed to him.) His body language was ridiculously relaxed, and his face was tilted invitingly in towards the girl, and she beamed at him, flushed.

Shinichi bristled a little and glared at the bottom of his cup.

On the subject of things wrong with Kaito, he had an entire goddamn _list_ of things.

First of all, he grumbled internally as the girl cast a look at Kaito and Shinichi read the words _Do you want my number?_ on her glossy lips, Kaito was a criminal. No matter what the general public's opinion of him said, he was a thief. He stole things. He taunted the police. He had a whole division of police assigned to him, for God's sake. And thus, by Shinichi's ironclad morals, he was despicable.

Kaito smirked at the girl, making a pen appear in his hand with a puff of glittery pink smoke. The girl squawked in surprise, red spots vivid on her cheeks, and then burst into nauseating giggles.

And_ then_, Shinichi thought scathingly, Kaito was the worst bedmate ever. Not – for the actual, um, main event, or anything (definitely not), but he always, without fail, stole the blankets afterwards. Which was one of Shinichi's biggest pet peeves, and no matter how many times Shinichi told Kaito to please stop yanking all the sheets to his side of the bed, Kaito always just laughed at him and dismissed him with a wave of his hand. It was frustrating, especially when Shinichi woke up freezing cold at three in the morning while Kaito slept peacefully on beside him.

With smooth, captivating grace that Shinichi wasn't sure was rehearsed, Kaito extended a hand to the girl. Clutching the pen tightly, she gave one last breathless laugh and reached out to scrawl her name over Kaito's palm.

Not to mention, Shinichi continued, clenching his glass so tightly it creaked in protest, Kaito never showed his emotions. He always hid everything behind his carefully concocted mask of cheerfulness, never once admitting when he was conflicted or explaining any of his feelings to Shinichi. It was altogether infuriating, considering how easily Shinichi could read him and know when he was upset, that he refused to share _anything _with Shinichi, despite claiming to be in love with him. Wasn't there some kind of disconnect between his words and his actions?

Once the girl had capped the pen and was fluttering her eyelashes at Kaito, Kaito bowed dramatically, took the pen from her, and sauntered away. The girl was left sighing after him, hands clasped to the front of her gauzy pink dress. Stupid thing looked like cotton candy after a rainstorm.

Unexpected, Kaito did not head for target number four, whom Shinichi had concluded would be the pretty blonde American cowering in the corner who had been making eyes at him ever since target number one (dyed redhead nurse and part time model, according to Shinichi's deduction).

Instead, he headed straight for Shinichi.

Scowling, Shinichi downed his bourbon in one swallow, refusing to meet Kaito's eyes, as Kaito's footsteps tapped to a stop across from him. Stupid magician thief coming back to him while smelling like three different Chanel perfumes – why the _hell _did Shinichi even bother coming out with him when he _knew _it would end like this –

"Yo, beautiful," Kaito's voice rumbled, right above Shinichi's bent head, and the detective grimaced.

"I'm not one of your desperate office ladies, Kaito," he growled, hazarding a short glance upwards. One that was long enough to catch the positively _exasperating _grin on Kaito's face. "Don't bother with that."

"That's right," Kaito laughed, the sound maddeningly like Shinichi's favorite song. "You're my adorably jealous little detective."

At that, Shinichi's head snapped up. "Exactly _who _is adorable, _who _is jealous, and _who _is little?" he demanded, glaring every kind of sharp-bladed instrument, and his magician just smirked all the wider.

"Finally got you to look at me, didn't I?" he said, exceedingly softly, and Shinichi blinked, startled.

Before Shinichi could get out the first syllable of another complaint, Kaito kneeled, right there in the middle of the bar, reached up to cup Shinichi's face, and pulled him down for a kiss.

And Shinichi almost hated how gentle he was as he threaded his hands through Shinichi's hair, how softly he dragged the pads of his pinkies behind Shinichi's ears, how easily Shinichi gave in to the comforting warmth of his mouth, how easily Shinichi melt and grasped the nape of Kaito's neck, thumbs trailing across the underside of Kaito's jaw.

It reminded Shinichi of how _vulnerable _he was – how he would do anything and everything for Kaito, how he would _let _Kaito do anything and everything – and that was a truly horrifying thought.

Kaito drew back, his fingers still entangled in Shinichi's hair and Shinichi's own still at the back of his neck, and offered an apologetic smile. Shinichi tried not to notice the fact that targets number one through four were all staring openmouthed at them, focusing instead on mapping out the cosmos in Kaito's eyes.

"I'm sorry," Kaito murmured, and there was a flicker of dark navy worry amid the stars and comets and lunar eclipses right there in his irises. "You're just so adorable when you're jealous."

In an attempt to fight back the blush that seemed intent on overtaking him, Shinichi scowled and removed his hands from Kaito. "I'm never adorable," he scoffed, yanking Kaito's hands out of his hair (though his fingertips lingered around Kaito's wrists). "And stand up. You look as if you're a slave or something."

Kaito beamed unexpectedly widely, even as he stood and brushed off his dusty knees. "That's quite true." He plopped down across from Shinichi. "I'm a slave to your love."

"Please stop," Shinichi begged, casting a quick glance behind him. Target number two was still gaping at them, although the other three appeared to have gotten over their heartbreak.

"What? Are you embarrassed by my love?" Kaito threw a hand over his heart, feigning shocked despair. Throwing his arms out wide, he sang, "I'm a slave to your love~!" at a volume that could deafen several people.

"Oh God." Shinichi covered his face with his hands as Kaito laughed.

He peeked at Kaito, though, through his fingers. Kaito's expression was unguarded, genuine, as he grinned across the table at him, eyes glittering and cheeks flushed, and Shinichi couldn't help but smile back.

True, Shinichi decided as he dropped his hands from his face and watched as Kaito beamed at him, Kaito wasn't perfect. There was a litany of things wrong with him, too long to ever list out completely.

But Shinichi was surprisingly okay with imperfection, he knew, as he reached for Kaito's hand to pull him into another kiss.

* * *

><p>People were generally confused when they learned Kaito was dating Shinichi. And to be honest, Kaito didn't really understand why either.<p>

With a sigh, he leaned against the tree a little more heavily. In front of him, police officers buzzed about the crime scene, those clad in forensics-blues dusting the scene and those clad in dull gray suits standing by the body. Shinichi was with the latter group, studying the prone figure of Akihisa Tomoe, thirty-three, housewife, lying where she had been bludgeoned to death sometime between seven-thirty and eight-fifteen that night. Off to the side, three suspects loitered, all wearing matching expressions of annoyance mixed with fear.

Kaito let his head loll back. This occurred far too frequently – he and Shinichi would be on a date, sitting in the movie theater, eating at a restaurant, walking through a _park_, like today, and someone would die, or someone would be kidnapped, or someone would be attacked. Something would happen to someone, and Shinichi would run off to solve the case.

And if he were completely, painfully honest with himself, it sort of miffed him that Shinichi spent more time with dead bodies than with _him_, the person Shinichi claimed he was in love with.

Well, Kaito added as Shinichi kneeled by the corpse, it wasn't _actually _Shinichi's fault or anything. He probably hadn't asked to be haunted by bodies. But the way dead people kept interfering with their very alive relationship was enough to make Kaito consider, you know, maybe giving up. Trying to find someone like Shinichi and make do with second best.

Yet at the same time, Kaito also knew he could never do that. It would be too hard on Shinichi's replacement, being constantly compared to someone else, and Kaito kind of doubted he could ever be happy with anyone else.

A lock of hair fell across Shinichi's forehead as he flipped up the victim's shirt collar. Squinting, he leaned even farther forward, brushing his fingers over something he found. The officers all paused in what they were saying, waiting with bated breath for the verdict.

Shinichi pulled back from the body, glancing at the tense faces. Kaito read the blank _What? _on his lips and watched as all the officers sighed collectively. Shinichi stared in confusion.

And that was another thing. Shinichi might be good at coming to ridiculously accurate conclusions with minimal evidence, and he might have an incredibly good eye for detail, but he wasn't exactly the best at reading human emotion. If Kaito wanted him to know something, he had to say it outright, otherwise Shinichi would just blink at him in an admittedly adorable but still rather irritating manner.

Rising, Shinichi stepped around the body and headed for the trashcan parked at the far side of the little grassy knoll the cadaver rested on. He reached in, pulling something from the bottom, and narrowed his eyes at it, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly.

There was also, Kaito added to his list of things wrong with Shinichi, the fact that Shinichi was completely and utterly obsessed with Sherlock Holmes. Seriously. Kaito hadn't known that one person could own so many copies of the same book – just in various languages and from various printings. And God forbid Kaito ever say anything bad about the illustrious deerstalker-wearing detective, because he would be kicked out of bed for three days, if he was lucky. Three _weeks _if he wasn't.

The bark of the tree was hard and unyielding beneath Kaito's back. He groaned quietly to himself, hugging himself for warmth. These kinds of thoughts shouldn't be entertained, ever, but Kaito was cold and tired and he'd been expecting to be home, wrapped up in Shinichi's arms by now, and he was just _so_ over it.

At the sound, Shinichi's head turned, just a little, towards him.

With unexpected vigor, Shinichi clasped the thing he'd extracted from the trashcan and ran back to the body, moving aside several pieces of the victim's hair, yanking up the back of the collar, checking the inside of her jacket.

The police officers made mild sounds of horror, and Takagi actually reached out to stop him. But Shinichi somehow managed to evade his hands as he shot back to the trashcan, digging around fervently inside once more.

Kaito watched as his form seized up, and he lifted something out, holding it up to the moonlight. Even from behind him, Kaito could almost see the triumphant smile on his face, reading it in the confident curl of his shoulders and the relaxing of his fingers. The thought made Kaito smile, just thinking about that familiar smug smirk on his face.

He was expecting Shinichi to turn and head back towards the body to present his deduction, but to his surprise, when Shinichi whipped around, he headed straight for Kaito.

The magician's eyebrows were raised by the time Shinichi reached him. "Hey there," he said, though, even through his bewilderment, and Shinichi beamed, positively radiant.

"Hi," he replied, soft and cloud-cottony, and Kaito shook his head fondly at him.

"I see you've solved the case."

"Mm." Shinichi half-lifted the plastic bag he was holding, and then lowered his arm apologetically. "I don't think you'd like to hear it?"

"Well…" Kaito shrugged, casually placing his hands on Shinichi's shoulders. Shinichi took a short step forward. They were centimeters from each other, and Kaito just stood, tasting Shinichi's breath and letting himself sink in the azure of his eyes. "I don't want to hear the deduction, but at the same time, I could listen to you talk about sheep and still be enraptured."

A little laugh detached from Shinichi's lips, and he leaned in to press his forehead to Kaito's. "You know how much you mean to me, right?" he asked, almost inaudibly, and Kaito let a laugh rumble through him.

"Of course I do," he returned, just as quietly, and there was a flash of teeth as Shinichi smiled right before he kissed Kaito whisper-lightly on the cheek.

"Good," he beamed, one last sunbeam amongst the moonlight, before he ran back off to where the police officers were huddled protectively around the body, clearly scared that he'd contaminate their crime scene once again. As he went, Shinichi called, "I know who the culprit is!" The officers stepped away from the body, relieved.

"What we didn't count on," Shinichi began, "was that the culprit would abandon his weapon in the nearest trash receptacle."

"But why?" Satou asked, hands on hips.

"Because he heard footsteps – mine and Kaito's, to be precise."

And that was where Kaito just sort of began to tune it out, focusing on Shinichi instead of his words. He was the embodiment of confidence – standing tall, shoulders squared, cutting a striking figure in the night. His voice carried through the night, steady and strong, and his expression was absolutely _marvelous_ – all carefully restrained fire and iced poise – as he faced down the suspects.

Still, Kaito thought to himself, Shinichi's earlier actions had been out of character, for him. He wasn't usually one to frantically search the dead bodies – that tended to be more Hattori's area. He was always meticulous with his examinations – trying to preserve the original condition of the body.

Kaito thought back to what had happened right then. Shinichi had been looking around in the trashcan, Kaito had sighed, and then Shinichi had gone insane and started pawing around the body –

Wait, Kaito had… _sighed_, right?

It was at that moment that Shinichi cast a glance over his shoulder. Just a short glance, nothing particularly noticeable – but it was directed to Kaito, and it was full of concern.

At that point, realization dawned on Kaito, and he had to hide a smile, pressing a hand to his mouth.

Yes, people didn't understand why Kaito would want to date Shinichi. And he didn't quite understand why he would, either.

But Kaito also didn't understand why he _wouldn't_, he thought, as he dropped his hands from his face and let himself smile unabashedly at Shinichi's back.

* * *

><p><strong>Ugh, I'm so gross. I'm drowning in a sea of syrup. Send help, please.<strong>

**Anyway, I'm off to go work on my super melodramatic and super unrealistic Christmas fic, so until then, goodbye, my darlings! If you enjoyed this pathetic fluff even a little, please consider dropping me a review~! - Luna**


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